User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March/@comment-3135907-20130323163345

Downstream by only an hour or so, Glipper's mutinous crew have reached a split in the river. Glipper grins. "Hmm, what say we crush all those bulrushes on the left bank, so's they think we went that way when we actually are goin' right!"

"Aye, that'd be good, Log-a-Log'll never find us," says Dadge, one of the four cronies Glipper brought with him. "She kin have all the fun she wants savin' the rabbets' skins, but far as I'm concerned, we can go anyplace but Salamandastron!" Dadge hops overboard and swims over to the clump of bulrushes in question. With a few slashes of his rapier and stomps of his footpaws, they lie ruined. "Heh, now see if ye kin find us, Blandface!" he mutters under his breath as he rejoins the others in the stolen logboat. "Let's go, shrewmates!"